Help Me-Chapter 5, The Ocean
by BabyGraceBlue
Summary: Scully is forced into talking about her realtionship with Mulder. Scully's POV


I hate the night.   
  
I suppose a lot of people do, but I hate it with everything I have, I hate it with a vengeance.   
  
Days aren't necessarily easy though, not at all. My waking hours are full with concerns, fears, glimpse of the hatred and destruction mankind is capable visible in the gruesome bodies I examine, sightings of girls who remind me so much of Emily, because even though I have Elizabeth now, my wound from my brief time with her is still relatively fresh. But everything I see, everything I hear, everything I experience, everything that happens to me during the day I can run away from, turn away from, or bury deep inside me.   
  
See, I can't do that a night.   
  
Because the dreams I have, the nightmares, are part of _me_ and not something I can escape. They are the products of my cowardly behavior during the day and are inside my head. There's nothing I can to fight it back.   
  
So I completely understand why Lizzy is so tormented by this dream, but I can't even begin to understand Mulder's desire to come over to talk about it. I've had pretty bad ones, and I haven't told anyone about them.   
  
Like, for instance, the one I was having until Lizzy woke me up with her crying.   
  
I was dreaming I was in a ocean, a deep, sapphire abyss of an ocean, Mulder was attached to one leg, Lizzy to the other, and they were slowly dragging me under and I was kicking and screaming and clawing at the air for something to grab hold to, and at the very last possible second before I was completely under, my foot connects sharply with Lizzy's head, and she floats to the surface as Mulder lets go of my leg and I look over at Lizzy's still body and I realize the water is slowly turning red...   
  
I shake my head in a failed attempt to somehow rid myself of the dream. I wonder why all three of us have had such horrific dreams tonight. I'm blaming it on that meatloaf I attempted to make...   
  
Lizzy shuffles into the room, clutching the large rabbit I gave her as a sort of "welcome" present. She moves towards me, looking so safe and secure in her pink pajamas with feeties and her hair pulled back and I feel so damn guilty for something my subconscious forced onto me. She comes and sits with me on the couch and looks up. All I can see in her blue eyes is the ocean.   
  
"Why is Mommy sad?" she whispers up at me, her feet dangling off the side of the couch.   
  
I smile at her sweetness, and stroke her hair.   
  
"Mommy's not sad, sweetheart. She's just upset that you had a bad dream."   
  
"Then I wont have anymore bad dreams, if they make Mommy upset," she says solemnly, frowning slightly.   
  
I gaze down at her tenderly, and I see the strength, the courage that was once me in her face. I draw her to me, hold her to my chest, surrounding her small body with my warm arms, cradling her, comforting her, consoling her, soothing her, promising her in unspoken words that I would always be there for her, that I would comfort her, make every wrong right and love her forever. At that second that I made that vow, I realized she was my daughter. Not a term to be thrown around loosely anymore. While Lizzy may not be my flesh and blood, she was as much of a part of me as Emily was, and more, for I had grown to love and cherish this girl unconditionally, while there was still a bit of awkwardness with Emily. God, I would die for this girl, and I've only truly known her for two weeks.   
  
Suddenly, the doorbell rings.   
  
Lizzy jumps in surprise, pulling away as she does so and the feeling is ruined. She looks at me with a trace of a smile and, still clutching her rabbit, retreats back to her room. I watch her go, bemused and the doorbell rings again impatiently. I sigh, get up and carefully open the door. There stands Mulder, wearing a T-shirt and jeans, and looking like he's freezing.   
  
"I'm freezing," he reports, pushing his way by me and into my house.   
  
"Jeez, Mulder," I mutter, closing the door and turning to face him as he makes himself comfortable on the couch. "So what is this all about?"   
  
He inhales deeply, and I come and sit next to him on the couch, curling my legs up underneath me and pushing my hair back out of my eyes. He grimaces. I think the very sight of me pains him for some reason.   
  
"Look Scully, I think we need to talk," he says, looking straight at me.   
  
I nod slightly. "We do."  
  
He bows his head, and gnaws at his lip. "I've been thinking, thinking a lot actually, about that day I finally found you. You know, when I told you I l-" He stops suddenly and closes his eyes. "Well, that was an important day, and I was tired and wasn't thinking straight and well, what I'm trying to say is..."   
  
"You want to take it back, don't you?" I venture, angling my neck so I'm looking into his eyes that are twisted down to his hands, his white knuckles. His head snaps up.   
  
"No, of course not!," he replies in a burst of energy. He is quiet for a second and he holds his breath. "What I'm trying to say is, I'm kinda afraid of love, you know? I mean, I guess I'm more afraid of the commitment than actually being in love, but I'm also afraid of the risks that come with." He stops and reaches forward and grasps my hands in his own. "I care for you so much, I don't want you to be hurt because of anything I might do."   
  
At that moment, as I stare into those deep, vibrant eyes of his. I feel my heart being lost to him. Once, not so long ago, I thought I was free, I could love and give myself and my hear to anyone, and completely trust them. Now I feel our two souls join, until there is no real Dana Scully anymore. And I panic.   
  
"And that's why I wanted to talk to you," I say, trying covertly to wrench my hands from his grasp and failing. "I care for you too, Mulder, a lot. You're such an important part of me, you've been my best friend for five long, difficult years. And that's exactly why we can't be in love."   
  
"What?!" he exclaims, dropping my hands like a pair of hot potatoes. I advert my eyes, not wishing to see the pain I know my words will cause, in both him and me. "Since I was young, I've been basically a loner. I was never an overly popular kid, I probably had two or three good friends growing up and that's all. I always enjoyed running through the woods and finding peace and stillness than gossiping with friends about boys or such. That's just the way I am , you know?" I risk a look at him, and his sad eyes are twisted downward again. "Anyway, for most of my life, it's just been 'Dana', not 'Dana and John' or 'Dana and David' or anything like that. I've always found it easier that way. But you," I look up again, and grasp his rough cheeks with my small hands, forcing him to look at me. I started out with the intention to free myself and break his heart. But I just can't bring myself to say the words that are lies and will crush both of us. "You changed all that. For five years, it was 'Scully and Mulder' and it took sometime getting used to. If it's ever going get father than that, like 'Dana and Fo- Mulder', I mean, you just have to give me some time, okay?"   
  
"Isn't five years enough time?" he whispers pathetically and I regard him sadly. In my heart, I know it is, but I can't bring my mind to terms with this.   
  
"Give me just a little more time," I whisper back, stroking his face. "Just a little more."   
  
He closes his eyes, bits his lip and nods. I smile graciously at him, and pull him towards me in a warm hug, accepting all that he is, all that he wants to be and all that he never will achieve. He pulls back slowly, and there seems to be tears in his eyes.   
  
"Hey, so where's Lizzy anyway?" he asks, cocking his head and wiping desperately at his eyes.   
  
"I think she went into her room," I answer, getting up off the couch and pulling him along with me, leading him towards Lizzy's room. Her door is closed, and I carefully push it open, making sure it remains silent. Both of us peek in. There lies Lizzy on her bed, her arms wrapped around her rabbit, her face twisted into a smile, asleep.   
  
Mulder laughs and puts an arm around my waist. "At least one of us gets some sleep," he chuckles, looking down at me.  
  
I grin at him, then rest my head on his chest. " You know, for some reason, I think I'm gonna sleep pretty well tonight too."   
  
He flashes me a brilliant smile. "Me too."   
  
  
  



End file.
